


in search of silver linings, we discovered gold

by ninwrites



Series: Shadowhunters Coda Scenes [13]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bittersweet, Canon Compliant, Character Study, Developing Relationship, Dorks in Love, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Everything is Beautiful and Everything Hurts, Falling In Love, Feels, Forehead Kisses, Hopeful Ending, Implied Sexual Content, Introspection, M/M, Reflection, Romantic Fluff, headcanon inspired, ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-01
Updated: 2018-09-01
Packaged: 2019-07-03 07:58:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15814737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninwrites/pseuds/ninwrites
Summary: Alec may not realise it yet, perhaps it is a matter of the restrictive Nephilim society or something more internalised, but there is something between them. Something that makes Magnus want to do stupid things.Like kiss him on the forehead while he’s sleeping off one too many cocktails. And ask him out on a date.--otherwise known as serendi wrote a headcanon on forehead kisses and i completely ran away with it ❤





	in search of silver linings, we discovered gold

**Author's Note:**

> this has been quite a while in the making, and I have a lot of people to thank - they'll be listed below. if that's none of your interest, feel free to read ahead. I sincerely hope you enjoy ❤ 
> 
> title from 'sinners' by lauren aquilina (which was written for malec don't even fight me)
> 
> \--
> 
> my first and biggest thanks is to [serendi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/serendipitiness/works), who very kindly gave me permission to take her wonderful [headcanon](https://laughingmagnus.tumblr.com/post/176532872356/hey-its-currently-2am-here-and-all-i-can-think) on malec and forehead kisses and just .. take my own path with it. I didn't expect this to turn out the way it has, but I do know that it wouldn't exist without her. (p.s you should definitely read everything she's written ever because her work is a gift)
> 
> additional thanks to [sara](https://twitter.com/alecsmercury), for always being so wonderfully supportive; [mary](https://twitter.com/artistmow), who's the best in every way; and [jackie](https://twitter.com/jwrites_), [san](https://twitter.com/lemonoclefox) and their [podcast](https://t.co/eLUzC81jfD): both for the background entertainment and the conversation around underhill that ended up inspiring the fourth part and saved me quite the headache. (if you haven't listened to their podcast yet then trust me, you're missing out ❤)
> 
> —
> 
> happy reading! (all mistakes are my own and sincerely apologised for)

****

** 1 **

 

It happens in an instant.

 

Magnus isn’t even sure what he’s doing, not until after he’s already pulled back, the impression of Alec’s skin a phantom against his lips. His first fear is irrational, that he’s left a glossy smear against Alec’s forehead, and not - as it probably should be - that he just kissed the Shadowhunter he’s attempting to court in probable vain simply because he looks too sweet in slumber to pass by.

 

Ragnor would clip Magnus’ ear if he knew what Magnus had just done.

 

Magnus folds down against the back of the opposite couch, scrubbing his hand over his face, thumb coming to rest against his bottom lip. He’s taken aback by his own actions. The poor boy - for sleeping there, weightless, he appears so young - seems so peaceful and gentle without the burdens of his duty.

 

There’s a spark in his chest that calls to Magnus, a glint behind his eyes that speaks to a brighter soul locked away by Nephilim conventions – Magnus had felt it down to his bone, seen it in the coy quirk of Alec’s smile, the hope Alec was trying to keep restrained.

 

There’s so much more to Alec than first appears, more than he’s probably aware of, and Magnus yearns to discover who he really is, behind all the smoke and mirrors, beneath the mould the Shadowhunters have shoved him into.  

 

Because Magnus has always been able to trust his instincts, and they’re all pointing towards Alec being _good_.

 

But none of that excuses Magnus’ behaviour. If Alec is closeted, the way Magnus observes he may be, then such actions should be taken with care and respectful boundaries. It’s just a kiss on a forehead but it is not one in which Alec is conscious, and Magnus’ skin crawls with the idea that Alec doesn’t know.

 

Consent is a standard Magnus has always held himself to, and he can’t forgive his own slip in judgement for the sake of overcoming heartache. He might be pining for a heart that heals his own, but that doesn’t excuse his lack of manners.

 

Alec shifts on the couch, his forehead creasing as though he can read Magnus’ mind. He mumbles beneath his breath, something that sounds a little like ‘pretty’, and a lot like ‘warlock’, and Magnus’ traitorous heart stutters against his ribs.

 

Alec Lightwood is an enigma beyond comprehension.

 

Magnus had been exaggerating when he’d told Jace that he needed Alec for his ‘virgin Shadowhunter energy’ - although, it is not something Magnus can find regret inside himself for. Alec’s strength had felt like a breath of fresh mountain air and a warm, encompassing hug all wrapped in one. It was a pleasant surprise, even more so once Magnus had gotten a better glimpse into Alec’s character.

 

He may be the most honourable man that Magnus has ever met. And that is as endearing as it is truly _frustrating._

 

Magnus has a lot of respect for those that uphold honour, he has a lot of respect for the morality of honour itself, but he’s also lived a long time. He knows that there is more to life than duty, that one can’t live a life in complete service of others and expect to be truly happy. 

 

Alec is wise beyond his years but he’s also incredibly naïve - this evening has taught Magnus that much. There’s a spark in Alec, something that pulls him towards the new and unexpected, that which he wants but does not believe that he can have.

 

Despite what Ragnor, and Raphael claim, Magnus does not actually have a superiority complex. He does not truly believe that he is actually the best of all there ever was – but he has been around for long enough that he can recognise attraction in another person’s eyes.

 

And the buzz, that electricity that jumps between two bodies attuned to each other – that is unmistakeable.

 

Alec may not realise it yet, perhaps it is a matter of the restrictive Nephilim society or something more internalised, but there is _something_ between them. Something that makes Magnus want to do _stupid_ things.

 

Like kiss him on the forehead while he’s sleeping off one too many cocktails. And ask him out on a date.

 

* * *

 

**2**

 

The sky looks like it has been painted above their heads, faint clouds brushed in broad strokes against the deep blue, surrounding the towering buildings with lights that flicker like stars – it’s magnificent.

 

The same could be said for the man at Alec’s side.

 

When Alec had arrived at Magnus’ loft, tugging nervously on the leather jacket that worked well – in Isabelle’s words – with his dark grey shirt, but doesn’t seem to sit comfortably on his wriggling shoulders, he hadn’t known what to expect from the night.

 

It’s hard to ever know what to expect where Magnus Bane is concerned, but a portal to _Tokyo_ is hardly even in the general realm of assumption.

 

If Japan looks beautiful – and Alec isn’t sure he’s ever been anywhere as enchanting and breathtaking – then Magnus brings new definition to the term.

 

There’s nothing particularly extravagant about his outfit, no gold streaks in his hair that catch the light and send Alec stumbling over his own words, no low-cut shirt that sways when he moves and reveal the toned chest beneath his collarbone – by all considered standards, Magnus has dressed down. His shirt has long sleeves, and a three-button collar, made of a comfortable black that hugs his muscles in a way that makes Alec’s mouth dry, his makeup is all warm browns and blacks and his jewellery is understated – it’s a reflection of who Magnus is, but undeniably _softer_.

 

Yet, he still remains the most beautiful person Alec has ever seen. It’s not the clothes that send Alec’s heart into overdrive, it’s the tiny smile Magnus gives as they pass the photobooth, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes when Alec suggests they take a few, the way his eyes sparkle when, strip of photos in hand, Alec presses a quick kiss to his cheek and thanks him for a wonderful evening.

 

The touch of Magnus’ palm against Alec’s has his heart singing showtunes and an exhale later they’re standing on the roof of the Palace Hotel, a trillion stars above them, nothing but serenity around them.

 

“Magnus,” Alec shakes his head, wonder curling around his throat like smoke.

 

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Magnus asks, stepping up until his shoulder presses against Alec’s, a warm and gentle presence by his side.

 

Alec glances at Magnus, the back of his hand brushing against Magnus’, their fingertips tangling together. “The view?” His gaze drops to Magnus’ lips and then back up to his eyes. “Yeah. Yeah, it is.”

 

It feels like a mistake, to assume that Magnus’ cheeks flush and it’s not simply a trick of the light, but Alec cannot fathom any other reason.

 

“You’re really something else, Alexander Lightwood.” Magnus says, somewhere between teasing and _more_.

 

“A good something?” Alec asks in turn, because he can tease too. He might not be as suave or as eloquent, he might not be able to trip Magnus over and he certainly can’t spin words like magic but he can feign being more innocent than he truly is.

 

He’s spent the better half of his entire life _pretending_ , it’s hardly a stretch to do it for the fun of it, for the anticipation that comes when Magnus takes a tantalising step closer, the corner of his mouth quirked up just slightly.

 

“The best,” Magnus whispers.

 

It’s not something that Alec thinks he will ever get used to – kissing Magnus. Not that he’s exactly kissed anyone else before, but he doesn’t think that anyone could compare, and he’s not interested in finding out.

 

Kissing Magnus Bane is like discovering that magic, in its rawest form, truly does exist, and then being wrapped inside of it. It’s sparks of hope and attraction and something cardinal that Alec doesn’t have a name for but feels to his very core. It’s trusting that no moment will ever feel as exhilarating, only to pull back, make eye contact, and lean back in, to something even sharper than before.

 

“Wow,” Alec whispers, when they pull back. His cheeks light up but Magnus’ responding laugh is soft and bright and Alec isn’t half as embarrassed as he is humbled to be the cause of such a wonderful sound.

 

“That good, huh?” Magnus brushes the back of his hand against Alec’s cheek, fingers curled into his palm. “Alexander, you’re – blushing…”

 

Alec shrugs, leaning into Magnus’ touch. He doesn’t speak, mostly from fear that he won’t be able to form anything more than fractured sounds if he tries.

 

Magnus blinks, a smile curving as his gaze tracks over Alec’s heated face. Alec would feel uncomfortable by the attention if it were anyone else, but with Magnus, he finds himself almost addicted to it, for it doesn’t feel suffocating or criticising when Magnus looks at him.

 

The only intent that Alec can see in Magnus’ gaze is a patient desire, and that’s as thrilling as it is unexpected.

 

“You’re one of the most thrillingly unforeseen surprises I’ve ever encountered.” Magnus admits, curling his hand against Alec’s cheek, thumb brushing across his cheekbone. “I could never have expected you, or the effect you’d have on me.”

 

Alec steps forward, until his knee is bumping against Magnus’, one hand finding purchase on Magnus’ waist, the other fluttering by his own side. “You’re telling me about surprises. I think I almost had a heart attack when you burst through the doors at my not-wedding.”

 

Magnus inclines his head, his smile twisting into a smirk, though not without any fondness. “I _was_ dressed to impressed.”

 

“It wasn’t your outfit, Magnus.” Alec pauses. “Although, that didn’t exactly help matters.”

 

Magnus laughs softly, and Alec lets the sound wash over him, certain he’s never heard anything better.

 

“I looked down the aisle,” He continues, once Magnus’ laughter has ceased, reaching out to tangle his fingers with Magnus’. “And you were there. It was only a second, but I only _needed_ a second to know that I couldn’t go through with it – I couldn’t marry Lydia, because it wouldn’t be right to her, or you – or me.”

 

Magnus squeezes Alec’s hand, and it’s all the anchoring that Alec needs.

 

“I was terrified,” Alec admits. “My heart felt like it was going to break through my chest, and Lydia – she was so sweet, so easy about it. I think she always knew, probably better than I did at the time. I don’t think I’d have had the courage if she hadn’t been so supportive. Not to look back at you.”

 

“But you did,” Magnus says, a note of pride to his tone. “More than just looked back.”

 

“I couldn’t look away.” Alec had never felt as simultaneously panicked and at peace before that moment. “You were there, and I couldn’t breathe, and I couldn’t look away. My feet were carrying me forward before I even knew what was happening.”

 

“I thought you’d have kicked me out.” Magnus strokes his thumb against the back of Alec’s hand. “I told your mother it was between you and I, but even with my foolish hope I couldn’t be sure anything good would come out of it.”

 

“Why did you come?” Alec asks, because it’s been gnawing at the back of his mind since the moment it happened, and he’s been too apprehensive to ask before now.

 

Magnus inhales deeply, something melancholy softening his gaze. “Because I had to give you – and myself, another chance. I told myself that this was the last time I would open my heart so if I were to stay true to that promise I had to give it one last go.”

 

“I’m glad you did.” Alec can’t imagine not being here – in the figurative sense – now that he knows what it is like to be so close to Magnus, to be so intertwined in a space that it’s hard to tell where one ends and the other begins.

 

Magnus tilts his head up, pressing a gentle kiss to Alec’s forehead – the height difference is slight, but noticeable in this moment, as Alec leans down without even realising it, his eyes fluttering closed.

 

It’s a second, a moment, but it feels like a lifetime.

 

“It was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.” Magnus whispers against Alec’s cheek, pressing a kiss to the heated skin. “And I would go back and do it all over again, in less than a heartbeat.”

 

Alec’s hand wraps around Magnus’ waist, pressing against the small of his back, his cheek pressed against Magnus’ because pulling away feels like torture. “You don’t have to.” He promises. “I’ve made my decision, I’m not turning back. You’re stuck with me now.”

 

Magnus presses a kiss to the edge of Alec’s jaw. “A true horror.”

 

Alec tucks his head against Magnus’ neck, wrapping both arms around his waist. Magnus’ hands curl against the back of Alec’s neck, and they start swaying to a tune all of their own, without quite realising it, both lost in the moment.

 

It’s only their second date, but there’s an unspoken promise between them that it will certainly not be the last.

 

* * *

 

**3**

 

Alec’s chest is heaving, his hair is mussed and wayward and he’s pretty sure there’s not an inch of skin that isn’t damp with perspiration – but he doesn’t care. Because he just had sex with Magnus Bane and he’s pretty sure this is the spiritual nirvana everyone searches for.

 

“By the angel,” Alec says, for the third time in a row.

 

“I’m a little worried I might have broken you,” Magnus quips, pressing a kiss to Alec’s collarbone, smiling through it.

 

“Worth it,” Alec replies, almost instantly. “God, Magnus, that was – I never knew that it was possible to be connected with someone, in a way so – close and intimate.”

 

The Alec before Magnus came around wouldn’t have been able to say the word ‘intimate’ let alone discuss it so openly. Amongst the many emotions that are twisting and twirling inside of Magnus, is an immense and overwhelming sense of _pride._

 

Alec glances at Magnus, his eyes lit up like a starry night. “Thank you.”

 

“Alexander,” Magnus shakes his head, tracing his fingers across Alec’s ribs. “You don’t have to thank me. It was pretty perfect for me, too.”

 

“No, just-“ Alec nips hesitantly at his bottom lip. “Thank you for being so patient and considerate, not just tonight but – always. I know I’m not an easy person, even just to get along with, but you’ve always, from the moment we first met, given me more than I probably deserve.”

 

Magnus physically feels his heart splinter. “I’m well acquainted with not being an easy person, Alexander, most would say that I’m a headache to get along with at the best of times. Our early – courting, if you will, wasn’t easy, but I don’t regret a moment.”

 

“I expected you to walk away because I wasn’t worth it,” Alec admits. “I think that part of me wanted to push you so much that you would, walk away, because then I wouldn’t have to – to face my feelings for you.”

 

Magnus tucks his chin against Alec’s chest. “It almost worked.” His hand flattens against Alec’s ribs.

 

“I’m sorry,” Alec covers Magnus’ hand with his own, Magnus’ rings indenting against his inner palm. “It wasn’t fair to you – any of it. I should have been more honest with myself, but I was just – I was terrified of admitting it to myself. Any of it. How I felt for you, what it meant, what it … changed.”

 

Magnus presses a gentle, open-mouthed kiss to Alec’s sternum. “You have nothing to apologise for. Besides, it’s all worked out in the end.” Another kiss, to Alec’s clavicle. “I have you right where I want you.”

 

It’s teasing, light and fun and more than Alec could have ever expected from a relationship before Magnus came along.

 

“In your bed?” Alec asks, smirking.

 

Magnus lifts up onto his elbow, swatting at Alec’s chest. “Not entirely, although I can’t say I’m upset at the circumstances. I meant, Alexander, that everything we went through was worth it because we’re _here_ , in this moment together. Because I can do this-“

 

Magnus traces a long-forgotten rune of a far less angelic and notably dead language across Alec’s chest, leaning up to peck a line of quick kisses across Alec’s jaw, beneath his ear and along his hairline.

 

Under a different mood, Alec would laugh, giggle even, the touch light and ticklish – but the atmosphere is growing tenser with every kiss and it’s all that Alec can do to not immediately buck against Magnus’ touch.

 

It’s all very new, and Magnus has been incredibly patient and considerate, but Alec is at the point where he’s tired of keeping everything locked away – this is his first chance to truly indulge in his own feelings and he has no desire to try and squash that down anymore, not now that he doesn’t have to.

 

Magnus presses a kiss to Alec’s forehead, and something about it is sweeter than the others. Alec’s breath gets trapped in his throat, and there are words sticking to the roof of his mouth but it’s too soon, _it’s too soon_.

 

“I’m not one to believe in the concept of perfection.” Magnus whispers, resting his forehead against Alec’s; his eyes are closed, but Alec’s aren’t, and it feels like being privy to something truly sacred. “Yet I think this might just be the closest I’ve ever come to it.”

 

“You’re perfect,” Alec whispers, clamping his lips together once he realises what he’s truly said.

 

Magnus’ eyes fly open. He searches Alec’s gaze, pulling back until their chests are barely touching, cool air dancing across Alec’s shoulders, matching the chill that locks against his spine.

 

“You think I’m perfect?” Magnus asks, voice thin and a hundred years younger.

 

Alec cups Magnus’ cheek, thumb brushing beneath the eyes still unglamoured and gold. “I think you’re the closest thing there ever was to perfection.”

 

It’s still a thrilling revelation, to be honest with himself about these things, to admit beyond the limits of his own mind that with Magnus he feels like he’s truly found all he’s ever needed.

 

“Alexander,” Magnus whispers, turning his head to place a kiss against the centre of Alec’s palm. His gaze is focused but gentle, the gold of his cat eyes shimmering with something Alec can’t name.

 

There are emotions burning in the fragile caverns of Alec’s heart, and it’s all too much, too soon.

 

Magnus’ exhale is weighted but he’s moving before Alec can even blink, and then they’re kissing and it would be an angel-sent miracle if Alec could even think with Magnus’ lips on his, with Magnus’ hands scouring across his torso, nails scraping lightly against his ribs.

 

Alec wraps his arms around Magnus’ neck, fingers sliding through Magnus’ hair, soft and free of product, free of all the adornments that hold Magnus’ _High Warlock_ persona together.

 

Here is this beautiful man, who’s been through so much, more than Alec could ever imagine, whose heart has been tramped and torn apart and yet he’s still here, opening it up to Alec, as though he has nothing to fear.

 

There’s a pre-emptive fear inside of Alec that he’s going to hurt Magnus – it’s the last thing he’d ever want to do, but there’s no guarantee that he’s not going to take a wrong step and … fuck everything up.

 

It’s why Alec likes to exist only in that moment. Because here, with Magnus peppering kisses down his neck, awash in gold sheets and a warmth he’s always chased but never quite found, he’s _happy_.

 

* * *

 

**4**

 

There’s a disproportion of sound when the rim of Magnus’ martini glass clinks against the neck of Alec’s beer bottle, like a note that falls just slightly short of its intention.

 

“Cheers,” Alec’s tone falls just as shy.

 

He can’t stop mulling over what Magnus had said, the fact that Magnus didn’t feel able to admit that he didn’t want Alec to go to Idris; Alec had no intention of accepting the offer, and had been firm in his own conviction until Magnus had congratulated him, sending his entire world spinning on its axis.

 

It was ridiculous, he knows – but for a moment, he’d felt as though Magnus hadn’t wanted him to stay.

 

“I’m glad we’ve gotten this moment,” Magnus leans against the back of his chair. Alec would usually have lifted his arm to wrap around the back, but they’re too weighted and heavy by his side, his beer glued to his palm. “Just the two of us.”

 

“Feels like we haven’t had a real chance to be alone.” Alec’s voice chokes on the last word.

 

“Alexander-“

 

Alec swallows, his throat dry and scratching. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”

 

Magnus reaches over, his hand closing over Alec’s. “You don’t have to be.”

 

It’s nothing so dramatic as the disassembly of a dam or a crushing waterfall – Magnus squeezes Alec’s hand, and from it follows a fracturing of Alec’s composure, so thin and delicate that Alec doesn’t realise it’s happened until he’s blinking back tears that _burn_.

 

Magnus’ grip tightens against Alec’s hand, a grounding force that Alec centres his entire focus on, so much so that he barely notices the tiny twist of his stomach as the world around them falls away.

 

The bar seat beneath him morphs into a soft cushion but Alec can’t do much more than slump back, his hand still wrought around Magnus’. He feels like his ribs are concaving around his organs, compressing everything down until he can’t breathe without the pressure building up into his throat.

 

A spark of magic melts against the back of his neck, travelling down his spine – neither it, nor the broad hand Magnus curls against the back of his neck do much to ease his breathing, but it does relax his muscles before they can freeze up on him, before his limbs lock in place and he devolves into the kind of panic attack he hasn’t had since he was too young to know why his heart doesn’t beat the same as others.

 

“Alexander,” Magnus whispers, his thumb stroking along the back of Alec’s neck. “Are you with me?”

 

Alec keeps his eyes closed, not that he can remember when they stopped being open, and lets himself fold against the arm that comes to wrap around his shoulders. “I’m sorry,” He replies, because some instincts never quite change.

 

“You have nothing to be sorry about.” Magnus assures him, thumb still moving in centric motions. “I’m more concerned with making sure that you’re okay.”

 

“I really thought I was going to lose you.” Alec knows that if he doesn’t get it out now, he’ll never have the courage otherwise – and it needs to be said. “I’ve always been taught that sacrifice is _necessary_ , but … but I’ve never been so frightened of losing something as I am of you, of _us_.”

 

“You’re not going to lose me.” Magnus’ voice croaks around the promise and Alec feels his heart splinter further.

 

The truth is supposed to be the better option, but he’s not sure it wouldn’t have hurt less if he’d kept it to himself, if he’d just buried it away like he’s done everything else, out of sight and mind where it can’t hurt anyone else.

 

Because the last thing he ever wants is to hurt Magnus.

 

“I almost did.”

 

Alec forces himself to keep his gaze from breaking with Magnus’, even as Magnus’ rings press indentations into Alec’s hand, sharp and stinging. The colour has seeped from Magnus’ cheeks but there’s a fire in the depths of his gaze and Alec is reminded of how vulnerable Magnus can be.

 

How he hates to be anything but strong, has gotten so used to keeping the act up that the lines between who he is and who everyone thinks he should be are so blurred he can’t see the truth anymore, that it’s only when Alec is around that he can feel safe not pretending anymore.

 

Alec knows what it’s like to live as an expectation and not the person he truly wants to be.

 

“Alexander.” Magnus clasps his other hand around Alec’s wrist. “We’ve both made mistakes, myself perhaps more than most. But it is what we do afterwards, that determines our fate. It is not something that is laid out for us, it’s something _we_ write ourselves. You won’t lose me, and I won’t lose you, because neither of us will let that happen.”

 

Alec shakes his head, because it’s not that simple, it is never that simple. “You can’t be sure of that. I’m a Shadowhunter – you’re one of the most infamous warlocks in the Shadow World; danger is the backdrop to our lives. How can you be sure that we’ll be the exception to the rules that govern our world?”

 

“Love.” Magnus leans forward, until Alec can count each fleck of light gold in Magnus’ eyes. “It’s what makes the world go around. It is the one thing that remains when all hope is otherwise lost.”

 

Magnus tilts his head up, brushing a kiss against Alec’s forehead that lasts enough beats for Alec’s heart to calm itself down. “Faith in our love will never be misplaced.”

 

Alec slips his hands around Magnus’ waist, curling into the fabric, bunching against his spine. “I’ve always expected the worst to come true. But that would mean accepting that I’d have to lose you, and – I don’t think I can.”

 

“You don’t have to.” Magnus promises, one hand pressed firm against Alec’s heart. “You’re not going anywhere – that’s what you told me. And I refuse to go anywhere without you. Which leaves us no choice but to be stuck together.”

 

“Forever?” Alec knows that forever isn’t in their cards, but just for tonight he wants to pretend, wants to buy into the folly he’s never allowed himself before.

 

Magnus presses a kiss to the corner of Alec’s mouth, and then one each to his damp cheeks; he’d like the chance to indulge in fantasies far out of their reach, too.

 

“Forever.”

 

* * *

 

 

**5**

The knock on the door is firm, confident but not intrusive; Jace would have announced that he’s knocking as he walked in, Isabelle wouldn’t have bothered with that minor consideration, Clary’s would have been near inaudible and Magnus simply would have portalled in.

 

Which means that Alec needs to lift his head from his desk before the Clave decide he’s unfit to lead the Institute, and send _him_ to Wrangle Island on the basis of clinical insanity or something.

 

He loves his job, and giving it up isn’t even a consideration, but the spike in stress over the past few weeks with the mundane disappearances and resulting familial murders that feels too sub-human to not be a product of their world makes it hard to stay firm in his own convictions about his role.

 

It doesn’t help that Alec still considers part of that role as taking on perhaps more than he can truly handle in the name of relieving others, but it’s a part of his nature, it’s who he’s always been.

 

It’s his duty to step up and help others where he can, and it always will be.

 

“Sir?”

 

Alec reluctantly pulls his head up, grateful when he looks over at the door that it’s only to see Underhill standing there.

 

“Sorry,” Alec scrubs a hand over his face, the pads of his fingers catching against the day-old stubble crawling along his jaw. “What can I do for you?”

 

Underhill steps forward, hands still clasped behind his back. “I just came to check up on the forms Isabelle requested to be signed off on? She enquired about them as I was checking on the maps and I offered to collect them for her.”

 

Alec wracks his mind, knowing that he’d seen them only recently, a ten-page request to order new equipment for the lab that saves her from getting tangled up in the Clave’s bureaucratic red tape.

 

They’ll be caught back on it eventually, once the Clave realise what happened beneath their snooty noses, but Alec hopes that by then the equipment will already be in active use, and too vital for the Clave to take away from them.

 

“It’s very kind of you to offer,” Alec mentions, searching through the ridiculous spread of paperwork on his desk. “I know that Isabelle is busy, I’d hoped to run the forms back to her myself because of that, but you don’t exactly have a lot of free time either.”

 

Alec glances at Underhill, who simply shrugs in response. “It’s no hassle. I’ve got updates coming in from the patrol teams, who fortunately – or perhaps unfortunately – haven’t found anything suspicious. It’s a minor errand, nothing that will impact my work, sir, I promise.”

 

“I have no doubt that it wouldn’t, Underhill. You’re one of the best, I have complete faith in your abilities and your judgement. I find it – commendable, that you’d go out of your way to do an additional task that isn’t your own.”

 

Underhill smiles, tight at the corners, as though he isn’t sure if it’s appropriate. “We’re all working towards the same goal, sir. It does no help to anyone if I refuse to offer assistance where possible, simply because it’s not part of my job description. This is a war we’re all fighting, and it will only be won by working towards the same goal.”

 

Alec curls his fingers against his palm, uncomfortably aware of himself. “That’s a very good point. We’re lucky to have you on our side.”

                                                                                                                                       

He shifts the paperwork aside, the back of his neck covered in a creeping flush. He discovers the form that Isabelle is waiting for just as Underhill quietly replies: “There’s no other side I’d be on, sir.”

 

Alec hands over the paperwork, smiling at Underhill in a way he hopes comes across as grateful, but rather feels drawn and tired.

 

“After I drop these off to Isabelle, I’ll get set on the patrol reports from this morning, see if there’s any discrepancies that might have been overlooked.” Underhill states, taking the forms from Alec, with the same tiny, hesitant smile.

 

“That would be great,” Alec nods. “But, you don’t have to. I’m not sure there’s much hope for us to find anything until another incident occurs and we have more information. There’s no need to push yourself any further, especially not if the outcome won’t end up being all that worth it.”

 

Underhill inclines his head slightly. “That’s good advice, sir. If it’s not a step above my station, I think it’s advice that would do you well to take into consideration yourself.”

 

Alec leans back against his high-backed chair, slumping slightly. “I suppose you’re right. Thank you, Underhill.”

 

Underhill nods, backing away towards the door. “Have a good evening, sir.”

 

“You, too.”

 

Within a blink, the door has shut behind him and Alec is left alone in his office, with a scattering of papers ahead of him and a weight upon his shoulders that is too heavy to shift off by simply ignoring its presence.

 

Underhill’s words have scratched beneath his skin and the worst of it is how Alec can’t deny a thing. He knows he overworks himself, there are many who’ve told him as much, but there’s a _reason_ for it, he _needs_ to work harder than expected because it’s not fair to put the weight on somebody else.

 

A good leader doesn’t just delegate the work load, they share it; but Alec can’t be a good leader if he’s pushed himself so far that he can no longer work at all.

 

And yet, Rome wasn’t built in a day, and rerouting habits won’t be as easy as clicking his heels and wishing for the best; it’s easier for Alec to pick up another report than it is to judge whether he should call it a day, and in the end, the work wins out.

 

He gets an impressive way through the mess on his desk, least of all so that it’s sorted into piles of completion rather than just sprawled hopelessly, indiscernibly mixed in with each other, when the atmosphere of his office tilts, just slightly.

 

It’s noticeable in the air, the sudden charge, and in Alec’s chest when it loosens.

 

“Magnus,” He exhales, as soon as the swirling portal winks out. “Hi.”

 

Magnus smiles, tiny and a little concerned. “Hey, yourself.”

 

Alec leans back in his chair, the tension in his shoulder once like twisted ropes, now nothing more than tangled and frayed string. “I was going to head home soon,” He says, because it had been his honest intention to do so, before he’d lost track of the time. “Just trying to tidy things up a bit.”

 

“There’s no prior engagements you’ve missed, Alexander” Magnus grins. “Not this time. I’m here because I want to be.”

 

He’s been doing that more, since Lorenzo Rey took his title from out beneath him, just dropping in to Alec’s office; his clients request odd hours, and last Alec checked he’d been due in Central Park at twilight to help a pair of nixies with a protection spell. If he’s here, it means that time has slipped away from Alec without his notice, and even if it’s not Magnus’ intention for Alec to feel guilty, the sinking notion finds him anyway.

 

“I’m glad you are,” He says, because he always is.

 

Magnus shucks off his dark blazer, revealing a loose red shirt tucked into black pants that appear to be painted on for how tightly they cling to his legs; there is little jewellery, and hardly any makeup, his hair slightly curled. It’s all very natural, very toned-down and calm, and whilst Alec finds it endearing, the reason behind it makes his heart _ache_. 

 

“Busy day?” Magnus asks, hanging his blazer off the back of a chair on the other side of Alec’s desk.

 

Alec laughs, but it’s dry and humourless. “Busy year.” He corrects, slumping against his chair.

 

Magnus rounds the desk, rolling the cinched sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows. “The way I see it, Alexander, is that it has to slow down at some point.”

 

“Any time soon would be greatly appreciated.”

 

Magnus reaches down, pulling Alec’s hands into his own. “You know what? I think we both need a vacation when this is all over.”

 

“The war?” Alec raises a disbelieving eyebrow. “I thought _‘there will always be a war’_? That’s what you said to me, the night of our first date.”

 

“If I recall correctly,” Magnus tone is light, teasing, but there’s something telling underneath. “My real point was that you can’t just live to fight, but that you must also take the time for things that make life _worth_ living.”

 

Alec squeezes Magnus’ hands. “What if time runs out?”

 

Magnus shakes his head, in that slight tell that means he’s endeared, and amused at the way Alec thinks – which from experience means that Magnus’ immortality and experience has lead him down a different path.

 

“Then we make the most of it.” Magnus leans down and brushes a kiss against Alec’s forehead. “I’m thinking Tiny’s on Broadway? Maybe a nice stroll beneath the moon.”

 

Magnus’ tone is wistful and delicate and although Alec knows that the war is nowhere near being over, for the night at least he just wants to _pretend_ – pretend that neither of them have responsibilities rooting them in place, that they can run away, just the two of them.

 

“I’d love that.”

 

* * *

 

 

** +1 **

 

There’s an ache in his chest that reminds him of winter, cold wrapping around his ribs like coils of frozen ribbon. It’s been a few weeks, that much Alec knows, although the exact number is lost on him, what with the first couple of days he’d spent drifting in and out of the coma Catarina had kindly induced to ensure his healing.

 

And heal, he has, although the silvery-pink dip of his sternum still hurts to the touch, and he doesn’t dare poke too far into the state of his mind in case it’s crystallised, fragile as glass. Catarina had explained, once she’d cleared him, that any physical pain he felt thereafter would most likely be his mind playing tricks, but insisted if anything felt sharp or unusual, that he wasn’t to hesitate to call her, no matter the time of day – or night.

 

So far, there’s nothing but an ache, the kind that stays behind for a few hours after a new rune is applied, but it’s all happening under his skin and if Alec had the energy, he might think he’s going crazy.

 

As it is, he’s more worried about Magnus.

 

Alec is no stranger to pain, and while he can breathe without any sharp pangs and move around the loft without assistance, he considers himself, for all intents and purposes - fine. He’s been restricted to the loft, to flexible desk duty and not working for too long without a break, for too long _at all_ because he might strain himself, but that’s unspoken and more of a kindness on Alec’s part than anything else.

 

It’s not something he’d mention – it would do no better than pouring salt into an open wound – but it burns at the edges of his every thought; because Magnus has lost the very thing that outlined who he was, yet his only care seems to be how _Alec_ is feeling.  

 

It was not Magnus’ magic that Alec had fallen in love with, so he can’t claim an attachment, but he can see what being without it is doing to Magnus, and it kills him more than his injury could hope to, that he can’t help.

 

Just as being stripped of her runes had left his mother a ghost of herself, Magnus has had his entire identity stolen from him. He’s shaped his entire existence around what thrummed through his veins, and whether it’s for the good or bad, it’s all he’s ever known.

 

He’s been stripped of his essence and he doesn’t have the energy to start again.

 

Instead, he’s focusing on Alec, and whilst Alec is beyond grateful, at times, it can be a bit – much. Magnus has started hovering, always within a metre away from Alec, his hands fluttering at his sides _just in case_ , a near-permanent crease between his constantly furrowed brows. The only time he left Alec’s bedside for the first few days after Alec had woken was to get him something, whether Alec had asked or not.

 

It’s sweet. It _really_ is. Alec has had a lot of injuries before, it’s a fact of his profession and his life and not something he’s knew to, but the undeniable truth that he almost died, and he can’t ignore that. He can’t imagine how frightened Magnus would have been when he found Alec on the ground with his own arrow in his chest – Alec was already drifting between states of consciousness by that point, the edges of his vision spotted with black but he remembers feeling a sense of calm wash over him when he saw Magnus.

 

Even in his delirious state, he recognised that Magnus’ presence equated to safety.

 

But Magnus? Magnus was sitting by Alec’s side as he was _dying_ , and had no ability to help because he no longer had any magic at his disposal. Alec can’t blame Magnus for being so attentive, angel knows he’d be the same if their positions were switched, but he can’t help that he feels like he doesn’t have any room to breathe.

 

If he so much as bristles, Magnus seems to pick up on it like a change in the direction of the wind, and he’s just _there_ , asking Alec if he’s okay, if he needs anything, if he’s in any pain, if he’s sure.

 

Alec wouldn’t mention it, because everything feels fragile and a little like their world is teetering on an awkward incline, but part of him thinks that this is more about Magnus than Alec himself.

 

By focusing his attention on Alec, and ensuring his recovery goes as smoothly as possible, Magnus doesn’t have to think about the consequences of losing his magic. It’s one of the less surprising things they have in common, both preferring to put the weight of others on their own shoulders because it keeps them from having to assess their own.

 

Alec knows how unhealthy it is, but speaking against it would be hypocritical, and more than that, pointless; Magnus would either deny it outright, or otherwise spin his words in such a way that has him admitting the problem but by no means promising to amend it.

 

If Alec had the strength, he’d be more persistent, but he is still recovering, and that seems to be the only thing Magnus cares to talk about. The time will come, Alec is sure, where he’ll get his chance. Until then, he’ll just bade his time.

 

He can be patient. For Magnus, he _will_ be.

 

* * *

 

As it turns out, stubbornness isn’t an easily budged trait, and as earnest as Alec’s intentions had been, he can only last so long before being restrained to the loft starts to send him a little stir-crazy.

 

It’s not like he went that far. He just shuffled his way to the kitchen to make a _sandwich,_ there wasn’t even a fear of him setting the loft on fire - he just wanted to get out of bed and stretch his bedraggled limbs a bit.

 

He didn’t expect Magnus to emerge from his office and almost drop a potion for pain relief because his newly-healed boyfriend has a butter knife in one hand and a jar of peanut butter in the other. Magnus had stared, one hand fluttering against his chest, as Alec had offered a sheepish and apologetic smile in return, still holding the knife.

 

It didn’t take long for Alec to be swept back into bed, Magnus fussing over tucking the sheets in and whether any crumbs are on Alec’s faded cotton tee and just how stupid the love of his once-immortal life could be.

 

(Magnus mumbles beneath his breath when he’s particularly stressed.)

 

“I was making a sandwich,” Alec points out, huffing slightly as Magnus fiddles with the sheets. “I wasn’t summoning a demon, or running out to fight one.”

 

“Sometimes I wonder if you actually remember the arrow that was lodged in your chest and just how close you came-“ Magnus’ hands curl into the sheets, knuckles white. He’s not wearing any rings, which isn’t rare when he’s working with potions, but he’d always been so quick before to spell them back on, to wave his hand and ensure no imperfections, in appearance or otherwise.

 

This Magnus is weary and worn, hair curled limp over his forehead, face bare of anything more than moisturiser, snug in silk black lounge pants and one of Alec’s bigger sweaters - a nondescript navy which catches around his shoulders and floats mid-way down his thighs.

 

It’s not the best fit, it’s big on _Alec_ – and deliberately so – but Magnus seems content, for the most part, and it’s the best that Alec can hope for.

 

“Magnus,” Alec reaches out, hesitantly placing his hands over Magnus’. Magnus freezes, inhaling deeper than it seems possible for his lungs to hold, before exhaling shakily, his shoulders bowing forward.

 

“One wrong breath.” Magnus whispers, his voice thin, broken. “One wrong move. One _second_ too late, and I – I could have lost you.”

 

Alec squeezes Magnus’ hands, tension pricking along the bridge of his nose. “You didn’t.” He keeps his voice placating and quiet, because speaking any louder feels like breaking unspoken but no less important rules. “Death is a risk that I will always face, but you didn’t lose me, Magnus. I’m here. You have me.”

 

Magnus tucks his head against Alec’s neck, his whole body curving forward as though he doesn’t have the strength to keep it up any longer. Alec sweeps his hand over Magnus’ back, holding him close as Magnus folds, everything crumbling away with the permission to finally let go.

 

Alec couldn’t have expected that Magnus’ self-imposed resolve would fall like this, without warning, but he can’t deny that he’s grateful that Magnus is taking the chance instead of keeping it locked away.

 

Alec knows as well as, if not better than anyone what it means to bottle things away, to take his emotions and hide them in the existential darkness because if he can’t see them, then he doesn’t have to admit that they’re there in the first place.

 

Over the years, ignoring his feelings had become one of his greatest talents, and it’s only with some distance from who he used to be that he can recognise how much that was hurting him.

 

Magnus had helped show him the light that brought him from the darkness, and now it’s time for Alec to do the same in turn.

 

“I’m here,” He repeats, whispering it against Magnus’ temple. “I’m right here, and I promise you, I have no intention of going anywhere. Ever.” His lips brush against Magnus’ forehead with every word, his hand curling in the threads of the sweater against the bow of Magnus’ spine.

 

Magnus’ tears are silent, and hot against Alec’s skin, his hands gripping at any part of Alec he can reach, his knees poking against Alec’s legs – he’s almost deliberately shrinking in on himself, nothing more than a bundle of heartbreak and loss.

It breaks Alec a little inside, to see the man he loves more than anything so withered and wounded. Alec knows that Magnus is more than just his magic, doesn’t see Magnus as any less than he’s always been, but it’s not his opinion that dictates how Magnus feels, and all that he can do is hold Magnus while he falls apart, and be there to pick up the pieces afterward.

 

The irony is that part of Alec isn’t sure that even magic could fix this.

 

“I thought I had lost you.” Magnus pulls back, but keeps his gaze downcast, his fingers digging into Alec’s elbow. “I saw you, just _lying_ there, and there was an arrow at parade rest in your chest and _so much_ blood … Jace looked like he was going to throw up but I couldn’t even _breathe_.”

 

Alec swallows past the rock-sized lump in his throat, slipping his hand beneath Magnus’ sweater to trace shapes against his back, in an attempt to keep them both calm, although the thought feels a little too hopeful.

 

“You tried to make a joke,” Magnus smiles, just slightly, but it doesn’t reach his eyes, and pain exudes from every word, visceral and sharp. “I didn’t have the heart to tell you to save your energy – I wasn’t sure if I’d get the chance to hear your voice again.”

 

Alec doesn’t know how long a heart is able to withstand hurt before it’s too shattered to break anymore, but he’s almost certain his own has reached a level beyond even that.

 

“I’m sorry,” Alec knows there’s nothing that he can say that will take Magnus’ hurt away, but not saying anything feels cheap. “I never meant…“

 

Magnus sniffs, and his smile becomes a little stronger. “I know you never meant for any of this, I’m not upset with you, Alexander, far from it.”

 

He reaches up to cup the side of Alec’s face, thumb stroking along his cheekbone with a tenderness that feels as a whisper sounds, hesitant and gentle and teetering on a delicate precipice of caution.

 

“I could have lost you.” Magnus brushes away the tears that trace down Alec’s cheeks. “I am, more than anything else, grateful that I didn’t.”

 

Alec shakes his head, pulling Magnus forward until they fit, the way they’re meant to, like pre-destined puzzle pieces; Magnus straddling Alec’s thighs with Alec’s arms wound around his back, their foreheads pressed together because distance is the last thing that either of them need, Magnus’ hands grasping at any part of Alec that he can reach.

 

“I made a promise.” Alec says, tracing the symbolic rune against the small of Magnus’ back, along with a few that he doesn’t realise at first - trust, gift, fortune and destined. Runes he’d always dismissed as nothing more than decorative nonsense, before he’d had any reason to understand them; before Magnus had come along, and been all the reason he’d ever needed.

 

“I have no intention to break that promise.”

 

Magnus lets his eyes fall shut, dropping a kiss to the end of Alec’s nose. “Good. I couldn’t stand it if you did. You’ll just have to stay with me forever, I’m afraid it’s our only option.”

 

He’s joking, Alec knows – not just because of the forced casualty of the tone and the way he hides himself away from Alec’s reaction, or because he’s not the type to force anyone to do a single thing they’re not interested in, but rather because Magnus’ unspoken vulnerability won’t let him even dream of it.

 

Alec hopes to be the exception to the rule.

 

“I think I can manage that,” Alec tilts his head up, just enough to press a lasting kiss against Magnus’ forehead. “After all, being with you is exactly how I hope to spend forever, if I get to be so lucky.”

 

Magnus sweeps a thumb over the line of Alec’s clavicle. “A lifetime with you would be a life well-lived. Forever would be nothing short of a dream come true.”

 

“Well,” Alec knows it’s best to toe away from the edges of a conversation Magnus is still not ready to have. “I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me, Mr Bane.”

 

There’s a spark of reluctant joy in Magnus’ eyes, unglamoured without the magic to keep them hidden away. “How fortunate am I, Mr Lightwood.” He replies, curving his hand down Alec’s bicep, his lips brushing against Alec’s cheek.

 

“That forever means having you by my side.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> turns out, as of the 12th of August, I've been writing within this fandom, and malec specifically, for five years. which is insane - utterly insane. thank you to everyone who's supported me along the way, it means the world. i hope you enjoyed my tiny homage to magnus and alec's relationship, and all of the messy, beautiful love intertwined throughout. 
> 
> \---
> 
> links - for those interested:
> 
> twitter: [ninwrites](https://mobile.twitter.com/ninwrites) for fic stuff/updates/snippets + [biconicbarnes](https://mobile.twitter.com/biconicbarnes) for general fandom mess + small threads  
>   
> tumblr: [here](https://ninwrites.tumblr.com/)  
>   
> (and while you're there check out the [shfanficnexus](https://shfanficnexus.tumblr.com/), a collection of work by wonderfully talented and lovely writers <3 )  
> thank you for reading!
> 
> \- Nin ❤


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